


The Heat of Battle

by kelcat



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Anal Sex, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-27
Updated: 2012-06-27
Packaged: 2017-11-08 16:30:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/445162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kelcat/pseuds/kelcat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kieren Mahariel finds Zevran's battle tactics to be <i>extremely</i> sexy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Heat of Battle

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a kinkmeme prompt:
> 
>  
> 
> _Yesterday while my party was making its way through the Paragon of her Kind quest when we bumped into some ogres. Zevran got the killing blow to one of them and did that neat slow-motion jump thing, which was kinda hot. I wish my Warden had the option to ravish him in celebration after that. So how about M!Mahariel getting turned on by hot fighting tactics and jumping dear Zev at camp later on?_

Kieren should have known something was going to happen—things had been going too smoothly.

They had gotten through most of the Deep Roads with little incident—barring their confrontation with Branka—and were on their way back to Orzammar, only a few hours away from getting out of this Godsforsaken pit of hell. And of course, they had to get ambushed.

It was their own damned fault, Kieren knew. They had felled so many darkspawn on their way to the Anvil of the Void that they’d figured their path back to Orzammar would be relatively safe. All of them had let their guard down, and had been caught off-guard by a large pack of darkspawn.

There were two ogres in the group and a dozen lesser darkspawn. The genlocks and hurlocks had been easily dispatched, and Oghren’s berserker tactics helped take care of one of the ogres. It was the last one that was causing a problem.

Kieren unleashed arrow after arrow, silently praying to Andruil to guide his aim. But although the arrows were hitting their target they were having little effect on the beast. He could hear Wynne chanting spells of protection as he switched to his blades, darting behind the ogre to stab at it.

Before he had the chance to strike, the ogre whirled around—one huge paw descending towards Kieren. Staggering backwards, he heard Zevran’s cry of anger as the blond elf dashed forward. Kieren watched in amazement as Zevran leapt up and slashed at the ogre’s neck. Using his thighs to brace himself as the ogre toppled backwards, he raised his arms up and thrust both daggers deep into the creature’s skull.

As the beast writhed in its death throes Zevran jumped back and off, nimbly landing on his feet. Oghren gave a low whistle. “That was some fancy fighting there, Elf, not too shabby.”

Zevran inclined his head in thanks, then turned toward Kieren. “Are you alright Warden?” His brows furrowed in concern as Kieren remained motionless, his mouth partly open. Zevran moved forward to check him for injuries.

Kieren shook his head, trying to clear it. He was having a hard time thinking. Images of thigh muscles bulging beneath smooth bronze skin were dancing through his mind. A small bead of sweat trickled down the side of Zevran’s face and he had an overwhelming urge to lean forward and lick it off—he could practically _taste_ the salt.

“I’m fine,” he said, forcing a smile, “it didn’t even get close to me. Thanks.”

Zevran smiled and gave a small bow. “I am here to serve.”

_Oh Gods_. That phrase….His mind started spinning as he stared at those full lips parted in a smile, imagining those lips wrapped around his cock. White teeth flashed and he could _feel_ them biting down on the sensitive spot between his neck and shoulder.

A tightening in his groin brought him back to earth and he was horrified to discover that all of these thoughts were actually making him hard. Unable to stop himself he shifted from foot to foot, trying to subtly relieve some of the pressure.

Zevran noticed the movement and cocked an eyebrow in curiosity. Slowly his smile grew until it stretched from ear to ear. Licking his lips, he slowly ran his eyes up and down Kieren’s body, pointedly lingering at his groin before returning to his face.

_Damn it,_ he _knew_. The bastard knew _exactly_ what he was doing to Kieren, and he seemed eager to encourage it. Kieren shot him a glare before pushing past him. “We need to get going, or we’ll never get out of this damnable place.”

Zevran gave a low chuckle. “Whatever you desire, My Warden.” Kieren groaned. He didn’t even have to look at Zevran to _know_ that the other elf was leering at him. He had a feeling that the few hours it would take for them to reach Orzammar would be some of the longest hours of his life. **

He was not wrong . They didn’t come across any other large clusters of darkspawn, thank the Gods, just a few small groups here and there. Zevran seemed determined to take down as many darkspawn single-handedly as he could. And after every kill he made he would turn to Kieren, flashing one of those devilish smiles—every one of which shot lightning bolts through his blood straight to his groin.

The stretches of time in between the fighting were no better. Over and over, Kieren replayed the ogre battle in his mind. Usually their fights with darkspawn were so hurried he spent little time on watching the other party members  fight, he was too focused on downing their enemies as quickly as possible.

But when Zevran had raced in to tackle the ogre he had had nothing else to concentrate on. The thought that he was moments away from the beast grabbing him up and squeezing him to a pulp had rendered him frozen to the spot. All he could do was watch as Zevran attacked it—and he was quite certain it was the sexiest thing he had ever seen.

It wasn’t just the sight of Zevran’s beautiful body in motion—though that was a large part—it was the _look_ in Zevran’s eyes as he drove his daggers deep into the ogre’s skull that lingered in Kieren’s mind. The look he had had was pure animal—feral, dangerous, exciting. The adrenalin that must have been searing through his blood had broken through his usually guarded expression, and what shone in his eyes was lust in its most primal form.

Zevran had explained to Kieren once about the pleasures to be had by taking another life, and while Kieren had admitted to taking satisfaction in killing darkspawn he had never found anything particularly enjoyable about it. Zevran, however, looked to be taking great pleasure in felling the ogre.

Kieren suspected it was because of him—at least partially. Zevran was not good at expressing his emotions, the only way he knew to show how he felt was through actions. Being protective was his way of conveying how much Kieren meant to him. He would definitely take pleasure in destroying something that was threatening Kieren. In a way, Zevran’s fierce possessiveness was a huge turn-on.

Of course, right now everything about Zevran was a huge turn-on. They had been down in the Deep Roads for more than two weeks now, and it was starting to take its toll in more ways than one. Being one of the Dalish, Kieren was not used to being in such enclosed spaces—it felt like the ceiling could come tumbling down at any moment. And there was no air! How could anyone actually stand to live underneath the earth?

Then there was the fact that he and Zevran had had no chance to be intimate. It was just too confined a space, and the walls turned even the quietest moan into an endless echo. So it had been over two weeks since Kieren had felt Zevran’s hands roaming his body, felt Zevran’s cock—

\--He was pulled from his lustful musings by Wynne stepping near him as they walked down the ruined roadway. “Kieren, are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” he replied, surprised, “Why? Is something wrong?”

“No, nothing, you just look a bit flushed. And you seem to be walking a bit…strange.”

Kieren pinched his eyes shut. The last thing he needed was for Wynne to find out he had a raging hard-on; she would most likely think he had turned into some kind of pervert that got aroused by darkspawn. She already disapproved of most everything he did, he didn’t need to hear any more lectures.

“It’s just hard to breathe down here,” he said, “I’m not used to such enclosed spaces.”

Her eyes softened immediately. “You poor dear, this must be so hard for you. Don’t worry, we’ll be back on the surface before you know it.” She patted him on the shoulder and moved forward to speak with Oghren about a particular ale she had once tried.

He heard a low chuckle behind him and turned to see Zevran smiling at him. “Do not worry, Warden, you will feel _much_ better when we return—I will see to that.” Rolling his eyes Kieren sped up his pace, trying to keep himself equidistant from the two people in the party determined to drive him to insanity.

Finally, _finally_ , they made it back to Orzammar. Ignoring his own needs, Kieren headed directly for the Assembly Chamber to finish their business and be done with this place once and for all. He let Oghren do most of the talking, only speaking up when they asked him who Caridin had chosen to be Orzammar’s next king. He had little interest in durgen’len politics before and even less now; he honestly didn’t give a damn _who_ took the throne. He named Bhelen simply because it was the only name he could remember at the moment.

After the formalities were over and Bhelen had been crowned he offered them rooms for the night in the palace, which Kieren immediately agreed to. If nothing else, they could all stand to sleep in a real bed after camping in the Deep Roads for so long.

Kieren practically dragged Zevran to his assigned room, not giving a damn who saw him. They’d never been discreet in their relationship anyway, and he didn’t really care that it was only mid-afternoon—technically too early to turn in for the night. He needed Zevran, and he needed him _now_.

He pushed Zevran into the room, turning to lock the door behind him. When he turned back around he was shoved roughly against the wall, Zevran’s lips crushing against him in a bruising kiss.

Long moments later Zevran pulled back, panting. “Is this what you have been wanting, My Warden?” He ground his hips into Kieren’s for emphasis.

“Not exactly,” Kieren panted, grinning. Grabbing Zevran’s upper arms he turned him so that their positions were reversed, with Zevran pinned up against the wall.

Zevran’s look of confusion at Kieren’s words slowly turned into a smile. “Then what is it that you _do_ want?”

Kieren hesitated, having no idea how to put what he wanted into words. He wanted to see Zevran let his guard down, wanted to see that feral look that he had worn when destroying the ogre. He wanted to _claim_ Zevran—to _ravish_ him—in short, he wanted Zevran at his complete and utter mercy.

But how to tell him that? He wasn’t even sure if it was something Zevran would agree to. Usually, Zevran was the dominant one in their relationship; and although the sex was incredible, it couldn’t really be described as being _wild_.

Kieren decided to take a page from Zevran’s book, using actions rather than words. Grabbing Zevran’s wrists he pinned them above his head against the door. Leaning in, he nipped firmly at the lobe of Zevran’s ear, slowly dragging it free from his teeth. “You’re _mine_ ,” he growled softly.

He pulled back, waiting to see if Zevran understood and was willing to go along. Zevran stared intently into his eyes, as if looking for something. Having apparently found what he sought, his eyes flashed with desire. Slowly he tilted his head up and to the side, exposing his neck to Kieren.

Kieren grinned and took the invitation. He bit at the exposed flesh between neck and shoulder, hard enough to leave a mark. Zevran’s gasp encouraging him, he tangled his fingers in that silky blond hair and pulled him into a harsh kiss, devouring the other elf’s mouth with his tongue.

Tugging gently on Zevran’s hair Kieren urged him to his knees. Zevran looked up at him with a wicked grin before nudging aside the slats on Kieren’s leather skirt and unlacing the breeches he wore underneath. Slowly, teasingly, he took just the head of Kieren’s hardness into his mouth, swirling the tip with his tongue.

Kieren growled and tightened his grip in Zevran’s hair, pulling him forward. Zevran obliged him by swallowing his entire length in one swift movement. Gasping, Kieren fought to keep his hips still. He placed one hand against the door to keep his balance, and the other hand tight in Zevran’s hair—guiding his pace.

Too quickly, he felt himself nearing the edge of his climax. He pulled Zevran back before he fell over the precipice, not wanting to give in yet. He urged Zevran to his feet and pulled him into a rough kiss, biting softly at the other elf’s lower lip with his teeth. “Leathers off,” he growled, “and over to the bed.”

He switched his attention from Zevran to concentrate on removing his own leathers. Mere moments later, both elves were completely undressed, both too impatient to take to usual care with the handling of their armor.

Kieren took a moment to admire Zevran’s body. His smooth golden skin and taut muscles were accentuated by the various tattoos inked across his body. Zevran was the most beautiful man he had ever seen, and the few scars that marred his skin only added to that; especially because Kieren knew some of those scars had been earned defending him.

“Touch yourself,” he commanded, voice harsh. Zevran complied, taking himself in hand and starting a long, slow stroke. “ _Harder_. Show me how much you want me.” Lust-filled eyes locked on Kieren’s, Zevran tightened his grip. He moaned loudly, clearly relishing this little act of voyeurism.

Kieren gripped his own erection in a loose hold. Keeping his touch feather-light he slowly stroked himself as he watched Zevran’s ecstasy play across his face. He let out a low moan, savoring the mixture of pain and pleasure that came with denying himself release. Barely moving his hand now, he brushed the pad of his thumb across the head.

“W-warden,” Zevran groaned, “I’m—I’m going to—“

Kieren knew Zevran meant he was close to release, and he also knew that Zevran most likely expected that he would be commanded to stop before that happened. But Kieren wanted to see him climax, wanted to watch his lover bring himself to completion.

Zevran was experienced in the game they were playing it seemed—Kieren had not told him to stop, and so he continued pumping his fist with an increasing speed. One hand wrapped around the bedpost and the other wrapped around his cock he began gasping, crying out Kieren’s name as he finally spilled his seed into his hand.

Kieren mustered all the self-control he had to keep from following Zevran into climax. Instead he moved closer to the other elf, taking up the hand that had so recently brought his release and licking each finger until it was clean. He pulled Zevran into another deep, probing kiss, relishing that Zevran would be able to taste himself f on Kieren’s tongue.

“By the Gods, you’re amazing,” Kieren whispered. He pulled back to look Zevran up and down, noting that the already tanned skin was now flushed from exertion. “It’s a shame we don’t have any of that rope you’re always talking about.” He grinned mischievously.

Zevran raised an eyebrow before moving away from Kieren. He walked over to his pack and pulled out what looked to be a long, gold-colored length of fabric. “Will this do?” he asked, his eyes sparkling with mirth.

Kieren stared at it for a moment, confused as to what exactly the fabric was. Realization finally dawned. “Wynne is not going to be happy to find out you’ve stolen one of her sashes.

Zevran shrugged, indicating how he felt about the idea of Wynne being upset with him. “I had thought perhaps to use it upon you,” he chuckled lightly, “but maybe you can find a better use for it?”

Kieren couldn’t help the boyish grin that spread on his face, never ceasing to be amazed at Zevran’s ability to be prepared for any situation. He quickly remembered himself and schooled his face into a more serious look. “On the bed,” he ordered, taking the sash from Zevran’s hand.

Zevran complied with haste, as he had done with all of Kieren’s commands tonight. Kieren marveled at the trust Zevran placed in him, and his entire body thrummed with the idea that he would finally have his lover at his complete mercy.

He climbed onto the bed, straddling Zevran’s hips and paused. He’d never tied someone up before and he didn’t want to hurt Zevran. This was about pleasure, after all. Sensing Kieren’s hesitation, Zevran instructed him on how to wrap the scarf around his wrists and then tie the ends to the bedpost.

Kieren frowned slightly as he worked on binding the other elf’s wrists, mildly irritated that Zevran had even the slightest control. It was so easy, even now, to let Zevran have control—it was, after all, the role he most often took in their relationship, and that Kieren had subtly given to him from the very beginning. But something had awoken inside him, and tonight he wanted to see Zevran beg.

Once Zevran had been securely tied to the bedpost, Kieren decided he could no longer delay his release. He shuffled forward until his hips were in line with Zevran’s shoulders. He had positioned the other elf so that his head was propped up by a pillow, a perfect angle for him to take Kieren’s erection in his mouth.

No longer having the desire to hold back Kieren rocked his hips forward and back, thrusting into Zevran’s warm, wet mouth. His prolonged denial had already brought him to the edge, and it wasn’t long before Zevran was greedily swallowing his release.

Gasping for breath, Kieren draped himself over his lover, kissing him almost lazily. His peppered kisses along Zevran’s jaw and the shell of his ear, until the ink on Zevran’s face caught his attention. Placing another gentle kiss on his lips, he then proceeded to use his tongue to trace the three dark lines snaking across the side Zevran’s face.

Zevran purred as Kieren moved from the tattoos on his face to the ones on his shoulders and chest, outlining each of them with his tongue. Kieren knew the origin of some of the tattoos—such as the one on his left breast that he received after finishing his first assignment with the Crows—but there were still others he had yet to learn the meaning behind.

He moved down to Zevran’s left leg and laved the sinuous curves of ink that accentuated his thigh muscles, following the lines as they trailed to the inside of his leg, pausing briefly near his groin before winding down to trail around his ankle.

“Tell me,” Kieren whispered, “the one who did this tattoo, did you bed him after he was finished?”

Zevran snorted. “Come now Warden, surely you do not wish to discuss my past conquests at this moment in time do you?”

Kieren smiled up at him. “No, I was just thinking that it must have taken hours for him to do this part,” again he laved the line running along Zevran’s inner thigh, “and I cannot imagine anyone touching you in such an intimate area for so long without wanting to thoroughly ravish you after.”

Zevran’s chest shook with laughter. “Well then, perhaps I should let _you_ place my next tattoo, hmm?”

Kieren moved his tongue to Zevran’s stiffening length. “Only if I can choose where to put it.”

Zevran groaned loudly, apparently too distracted by Kieren’s ministrations to continue their playful discussion. Kieren swirled his tongue around the head of Zevran’s erection, and watched as Zevran pulled at the sash around his wrists. He was pleased to see that he was making some progress in turning Zevran into a complete mess.

Humming to himself he tended to Zevran’s erection for a few moments before pulling back—earning a small whine from Zevran. Grinning he got up from the bed and rooted around in Zevran’s pack until he found the bottle of oil he kept there.

He moved back to the bed and kneeled between Zevran’s length. He drizzled some of the oil onto his fingers before pushing one digit into Zevran’s entrance. Slowly, teasingly, he thrust his finger in and out.

“I wonder if I can get you to scream,” he mused, almost to himself.

Zevran groaned as Kieren pushed another finger inside of him. “You could…certainly try,” he managed.

Kieren grinned and wove a third finger in, thrusting deeper now. He crooked his fingers slightly and Zevran gasped and bucked his hips. Making a mental note of the spot he had hit, Kieren withdrew his fingers. He poured more of the oil into his hand and coated his erection with it.

He drew Zevran’s knees up and pressed forward, then paused as the tip of his length nudged Zevran’s entrance. He gently rocked his hips, not quite pushing forward enough to enter his lover fully. “What do you want, Zev?” he breathed.

Zevran was panting in anticipation. “I want you to fuck me,” he whispered, and bucked his hips in emphasis.

“What was that?” Kieren asked playfully, determined to possess Zevran completely.

“Fuck me,” Zevran moaned louder.

Kieren chuckled evilly. “Ask me again.”

“ _Fuck me!!_ ” Zevran shouted, his hands pulling in their restraints.

Kieren leaned down and bit Zevran’s shoulder, thrusting himself inside Zevran in one swift motion. Zevran’s cry of pleasure was music to his ears.

Having used up all of his self-control earlier, Kieren set a grueling pace. His fingers grasping Zevran’s thighs hard enough to bruise, he pounded into Zevran faster and faster. Eyes pinched shut in ecstasy, Zevran writhed beneath him, pushing his hips up to meet each of Kieren’s deep thrusts. Neither of them could last long, but Kieren was determined to bring Zevran over first.

He moved one hand from Zevran’s thigh to grasp his length, pumping it in time with his increasingly frantic thrusts. Zevran’s eyes opened to meet his and Kieren finally saw what he had wanted since their battle with the darkspawn hours ago—Zevran’s mask was down, his eyes ablaze with desire.

Kieren changed the angle of his hips so that he was hitting that spot he of pleasure inside Zevran with each and every thrust. Zevran’s moans turned into pleas, begging Kieren for release before finally coming hard, screaming his lover’s name. Kieren felt Zevran clamp down on him and with a few more frantic thrusts he reached his own climax, shouting nearly as loudly as Zevran.

Completely and utterly exhausted, Kieren slowly pulled out of Zevran before collapsing on top of him. He reached up and untied Zevran’s wrists, rubbing them for a few seconds to get the circulation back. Zevran wrapped Kieren’s sweat-slickened body in his arms and chuckled. “Next time Warden, I think I shall let _you_ kill the ogre.”

Kieren let out a bark of laughter and nuzzled Zevran’s neck. “Agreed.”

  



End file.
